Sarah Versus the Park
by Imagination-Parade
Summary: She is supposed to be on vacation, and this, at this moment, is not Sarah Walker's idea of an appealing vacation, and part of her can't believe she agreed to trade an evening in a fluffy, warm bed for goose bumps and dirt, but as she looks at the man laying next to her, there's no where else she wants to be. - Written for dettiot's "Chuck vs the In Between" challenge


_I thought I was more or less done with Chuck fic, but this sucked me back in. Written for dettiot's Chuck vs the In Between Challenge on Tumblr. Happy Anniversary, Chucksters!_

_Disclaimer - Chuck isn't mine & neither is the image in the cover photo. I got that off a lovely post reblogged to the Chuck vs the In Between tumblr, and, as it served as the inspiration for this story, I wanted to include it here._

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She doesn't quite know how he's talked her into this, but she thinks this might be the calmest she's ever felt.

They're side-by-side on the ground in a Parisian park in the middle of darkness, the cool wind blowing loose tendrils of her blonde hair against her face. She shudders with each gust of wind and burrows further into the jacket he surrendered to her only minutes after arriving. She is supposed to be on vacation, and this, at this moment, is _not_ Sarah Walker's idea of an appealing vacation, and part of her can't believe she agreed to trade an evening in a fluffy, warm bed for goose bumps and dirt, but as she looks at the man laying next to her, there's no where else she wants to be.

They haven't said much since they arrived in the park. They don't need words – not here, not tonight – and goodness knows, they filled their day with enough kisses and touches to last a lifetime, so they sit, content to just (_finally_) be together, stealing glances when they think the other's not looking. She can feel him turn his head to look up at her, and she takes slow breaths in and out, reveling in his presence as she keeps her eyes on the lights in front of them. He knows she's avoiding his gaze, and she knows he knows she's purposely not looking at him, and both of their lips curve into gentle, playful smiles. She finally lets her eyes meet his but only for a second before she glances forward again and lets out a girlish chuckle.

He relents, sits up, reaches between them, and takes a swig from the bottle of red wine they've been sharing before passing it to her. She takes a drink, too, and places it back between them. He's in only his t-shirt now, and she knows he must be cold, but he doesn't seem to care as he steadies himself on his elbows and lies back down on the grass beside her. Sarah gathers her blonde hair in her hands and ties it into a messy ponytail, tired of the wind and her hair obscuring her view of the gorgeous city sights in front of her and the gorgeous man beside her.

She doesn't know how long they've been there. She left everything that could slowly tick away the seconds of their magnificent night behind in the hotel room. The only thing she knows for sure is while the evening light that softened the little lines on his face when they arrived and he broke out into an infectious grin is long gone now, the beam on his face remains in place. For the first time since she met him, he seems truly _happy_, and she thinks, if she's having a moment like this one where she dares to allow herself to think such a thought, that she might be, too.

Another gust of cold wind blows, and this time, with her hair tied back, she feels it against her neck, and she gasps.

"Chuck," she finally says, leaning towards him slightly. "How long are we going to sit here?"

"I don't know," he says honestly. "God, just look at it, Sarah. It's so beautiful, and you…" He trails off as he looks in her direction. Legs sprawled out in front of her and drowning in his coat, she looks cold and small and _stunning_, and he can't believe she's finally his. "You…are wishing we were back in the hotel room."

"No," she says, and most of her means it. "No, it's good to be out in public with you…and not hiding anything."

"Pretending that feelings aren't really there," Chuck offered.

"Yeah." Her smile is tinged with a hint of sadness, and she quickly brushes thoughts of how much time they've wasted these past few years from her head.

"Do we need to go?" he asks. "We've got a pretty good view of this from our room."

"It's different from down here," she says, knowing he doesn't want to leave just yet.

"It's _so _different, and…I'm sorry, I'm trying not to sound like too much of a nerd, but…there it is! Right in front of us!" he says, nearly bursting with a childlike excitement that Sarah can't help but love.

"Why the Eiffel Tower?" she asks.

"What do you mean?" he replies.

"This is the one thing you've always wanted to see, and, out of everything in the world you could've picked, I was wondering why."

He's quiet for a long time as he cranes his neck and stares at the landmark in front of them. The utter and genuine awe in his expression is catching, and she stares up at the glimmering tower as well. She's seeing this city, this city full of petrifying nights on the job and bad memories, through his eyes tonight, which makes her feel as if she's seeing this city she's been to probably a dozen times before for the first time.

"Because I'm a hopeless romantic? I don't know. It's just one of those things, you know?" he finally says. "I spent my entire life in California. I'd barely even left the state before you, and I love it there, but I've always wanted to see…something. Just _one_ extraordinary thing in this world, and I don't know when it happened, but that thing somehow became the Eiffel Tower. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," she says with a nod and a giggle.

"I guess I just…after all this time, I can't believe it's real," Chuck says. "I didn't think it could be better than I imagined it to be, but it is."

He shoots that dazzling Bartowski smile in her direction, and she knows he's not only talking about Paris anymore. Sarah's eyes lock intently onto his as her smile slowly fades and she takes a steadying breath. She doesn't know whether she's suddenly feeling drunk from the wine or feeling drunk from _loving him_, but a wonderful strangeness overtakes her body.

"It is real?" Sarah says, and it comes out more like a shy question than the confident reassurance she meant it to be.

He takes her hand in his and brings it to his lips for a soft kiss. He smiles up at her insecure face and says, with certainty, "It is real."

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_Thanks for reading! Review? :)_


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